


Sazerac

by Rag



Category: Hiveswap, Homestuck
Genre: Abuse, Arguing, Bad Parenting, Biphobia, Cheating, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Infidelity, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Name-Calling, On-Again/Off-Again Relationship, Sexting, Unhealthy Relationships, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-12-30 07:13:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12103494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rag/pseuds/Rag
Summary: jake really shouldn't hook up with an old flame, but he does





	Sazerac

**Author's Note:**

> this seems like a good place to put up a psa that i dont necessarily condone what the characters i write do, say, or think  
> theres a lot of really iffy stuff in here because these characters are terrible people
> 
> mildly dubious consent because jake is kinda hesitant at the start and dirk is pretty pushy with his texts

Jenna takes Jake out to dinner. Fancy dinner, at a real restaurant, not just pasta that’s been haphazardly thrown together with sauce and served up on the stained kitchen tablecloth. It’s been months since they’ve had a date – since Joey and Jude came along, it had been hard to get a spare minute to think, let alone time for romance. But now they have a babysitter – genius idea on Jenna’s part, she has such a knack for these things – and tonight, they finally have time for date night.

The ambiance is perfect. Jenna picked an excellent place, with beautiful decorations, a live band that softly plays jazzy covers of old classics, and fantastic selections of food and wines. It’s almost too fancy – compared to everyday life, where the two of them are harried and frazzled from working and raising the kids, this almost feels like putting on a costume and playing pretend. But it’s great. Here, they’re calm, dressed up, talking about politics and their jobs and new films that are coming out. It’s lovely. He’s so missed this, and he’s missed this side of Jenna. As much as he adored the loving mother she was, this was all too often missing, because the kids needed attention.

The date is going swimmingly, but around an hour in, Jake’s phone starts buzzing and buzzing and buzzing. His phone is quite loud in his pocket, and causes an audible lull in the conversation every time it goes off. The first few times, he ignores it.

“Are you going to answer that?” Jenna asks him. She takes a sip of her wine, and her gorgeous, plump lips leave a little smudge of her dashing dark lipstick on the glass, which she wipes off with her napkin. Such a dainty, respectful lady. Even all these years into the marriage, Jake finds himself being completely charmed by little things like that.

“I’ll look at it later. This is our time.”

She smiles brilliantly.

“Tell me more about tagging the penguins, darling,” he says. She had been telling him about her work before his phone so rudely interrupted, and he’d been enamored by the image of her chasing down the unruly little fellows in a wetsuit.

“Oh, of course. See, the banding machine was broken yesterday-“

The phone buzzes again, and she pauses before continuing. Then it happens again. Jenna falters, looking worried.

“Babe, I think you should check that. It might be Roxy, what if something’s wrong?”

Oh. Oh, of course. Stupid. Jake opens his phone.

It is not the kids. It’s not the kids, or Roxy, or work.

_From: 281-555-0201_

_You still living in Rhode Island?_

_Scratch that. Obviously you are. Family values and all that shit. Don’t wanna pop the guys out to a new school when they’re just settling in, or something._

_Better question: are you in Rhode Island right now? Or you backpacking through some Bahaman ruins?_

_See, a gig put me up in this place just south of Boston for the weekend. And I thought, hmm, Boston, that sure is close to this guy I blow down in Providence._

_Know, sorry, typo. Keys are too damn small._

_I do want to blow you, though._

_Remember last time? That was fun. We should do that again. I could finger your tight little asshole while we do. Think you’d like that. You tend to like that._

Jake swallows. He tries to keep his face a blank mask and puts his phone back into his pocket. Jenna looks at him expectantly.

“Something wrong, dear?”

“No, just some telemarketing scam. I’ll have to block them later on, these schemes have just gotten so aggressive lately.”

“Oh, really! That’s so terrible. They really are the worst. What are they trying to sell you now?”

 _Drat._ Jake hopes he doesn’t pause for too long trying to come up with something at least a little plausible. “Those armed blankets, can you believe it?”

“ _Really?!_ Oh, the nerve! To send that directly to your phone?! That’s so bizarre. We really should complain to the government or something, this is out of line.”

His phone buzzes again.

“Oh, no, don’t worry about it. It’s nothing. Telemarketers are just a fact of life.”

It buzzes again. _Dirk. Please. For the love of god, fuck off._

“Is that them again?”

“Incredibly likely. Let me just…” he takes out his phone and silences the damn thing.

_From: 281-555-0201_

_Thing is, I got a bottle of absinthe here and it’s screaming your name. And I could use a little company, if you know what I’m saying?_

_I’m saying we should fuck, Jake. I’m saying I want to suck your dick and fuck you tonight. And_

Oh, Jake is absolutely not reading the rest of that message right now. It goes on for quite a while. Oh. Goodness.

“Are you okay, honey?”

“Oh, just ducky,” he says. He pops a smile on his face and tucks his phone in his pocket.

He can’t focus on a word his wife says for the next five minutes. He smiles when she smiles, and he says the right mindless conversation prompts to keep her going, keep her interested. What the devil is wrong with him? She’s right here. She’s _right. Here._ And she’s amazing. She’s beautiful and witty and clever and Jake is head-over-heels in love with her. And yet. He just can’t fucking keep himself from thinking about Dirk, too. All it takes is just that for his thoughts to be completely focused on him.

Sometimes he wishes that there just wasn’t this whole “choosing” element to it. There were people out there who dated multiple people at the same time. That would be ideal. But Jenna is not one of those people. Jenna, Jake learned when he carefully broached the subject, found the idea repugnant. So, go behind her back? Go behind her back to get more, because you need more? Because she’s never enough? One person is never enough for you, you selfish piece of shit. And Dirk understood that, understands that-

“Jake, are you listening?”

No. Absolutely not. “Oh, damn, I’m sorry, I got lost somewhere in the middle of your conversation, and I was hoping I could figure it out from listening but I just haven’t been able to.”

Jenna doesn’t seem to believe it. just smiles amusedly.

“You absolute nerd. We can talk about something else. You’re allowed to change the subject if you find it tedious, dear.”

“Thank you, doll, but it’s really not that. I think I need to use the bathroom, actually. Just a quickie, I’ll be right back.”

“Have fun,” she say. That makes Jake smile. He loves her. What Jake needs to do is tell Dirk to fuck off. On his way to the bathroom, he drafts his response in his head. _Delete my number, Dirk. I said it was over last time and I meant it. No, I don’t “always say that,” and I really mean it this time._

He closes the stall and opens his phone.

_From: 281-555-0201_

_I’m saying we should fuck, Jake. I’m saying I want to suck your dick and fuck you tonight. And tomorrow night, if you want. I want your legs wrapped around me. When’s the last time someone fucked you just how you like it? Got a funny feeling it’s been exactly four months and one week._

_Maybe I shouldn’t say this, but I’ve been testing some of the local waters myself, and nothing comes close to you. No one. You’re a fucking beefy minx and I want to see you come at least… 7 times before I go back, roughly 152 times before the session starts._

Jake swallows. He takes a deep breath.

 _I’ll have you know I deleted your number, and asked you to do the same for a reason,_ he starts to type. He doesn’t send it. Another message comes through.

_From: 281-555-0201_

_I miss you._

_If nothing else, we should catch up._

_But I can’t imagine we’d ever hang out and just catch up. Historically not a thing that happens._

He deletes his message. Starts over.

 _I told you not to do this._ He deletes that, starts over again.

_> We shouldnt keep doing this._

That. That’s fine. He takes a deep breath, hits send, watches it pop up on his screen.

_From: 281-555-0201_

_What are you doing right now?_

_> Im at dinner with Jenna._

_Oh, interesting. Probably got a real kick out of my messages, then._

_> We should stop talking._

_Sounds lame. Sounds like you don’t even believe that yourself._

_> I have to go._

_Sure. Eat up. Enjoy her company. Have a great dinner, Jake. I’ll be here._

_> I don’t think I’ll be coming._

_K._

_24 SE Washington Ave, room 714_

Jake closes his phone without responding. He tells himself that that was the end of that, and he knows he’s deluding himself.

The steak is cooked to perfection. Jenna agrees. Her eyes sparkle when she tries the dessert wine. She holds his hand affectionately and tells him that they need to do this more.

“It’s just too hard with the little ones. Never a spare moment. I’m so glad we found Roxy, I’ve desperately missed this. You look so dashing tonight.”

Jake smiles. He feels absolutely disgusting.

He could just not do it. He could just enjoy this dinner with his wife, go home and spend time with their children before tucking them in for sleep, then make quiet, passionate love to her in the breathless quiet of the home they made for themselves. And he could hold her as they fall asleep, and stay asleep, and wake up with her tomorrow. That’s what he should do.

*

Four hours later, he’s on the road.

He told his wife – his trusting, kind, beautiful wife – that he’d gotten a text from work, and had to pop off for the night to finish up a project at the plant. Emergency stuff, just awful. More than anything, she looked sad for him. Made some comment about how they don’t appreciate how hard he works. It felt like she was stabbing him. It felt like he deserved that pain, and much worse.

Halfway through the 45 minute drive, he thinks about just not doing it. So wishy-washy at every stage. Gotta draw it out as long as possible, don’t you, old boy. But, it’s not too late. He could get a motel out of town, and if Jenna ever found out, he could claim that he didn’t want to wake her up so late. And she might be suspicious, but his conscience would be clear. Well, clearer. Because if he did that, it would mean that he’d actually ended the affair in a meaningful way, instead of just pussyfooting around it and deluding himself. It’s always the same, isn’t it? Circuitous bullhockey. Every time, with the satisfaction he got from the months they spent apart, deluding himself into thinking that it was really over this time. This time, for real. That the days turning into weeks was a reflection of his own will, and not Dirk’s whims. And sometimes, even, that was true. Sometimes he turned Dirk away. It feels just so good, that resolution to do better.

But it’s never over, and it’ll never be over, because Jake just doesn’t care enough about his wife to not do this to her over and over and over. Because he just wants Dirk too bad to put an end to it. Well, she won’t find out, is the thing. She never has to know, and then she’ll never be crushed by it.

(this delusion is particularly comforting, even though he knows it’s only a matter of time before the hastily crafted pile of lies he’s built starts to crumble, and she starts to question one of several mismatching oddities)

_> Hello_

_Hello, Jake._

Jake types out a few messages and deletes them. _Are you still there, I changed my mind, Dont be a dick about it but ive decided to come see you tonight,_ etc. Everything he says is stupid.

_Are you coming?_

_> Yes._

_Cool._

*

The hotel Dirk is staying at is really fucking nice. 10 stories, gorgeous architecture, a sparkling pool and floors so clean they shone. The concierge smiles at him and he gives her a little wave. He gets in the elevator and selects floor 7. He finds Dirk’s room without trouble.

He pauses before knocking. Stares at the door. He could turn back. ( _oh, can it, just go through with the damn thing for once in your life_ ) Yet another of the many times when he could turn back. How many of those have there been so far? Thousands, must be. He knocks.

He hears the click, and Dirk opens the door.

He steps inside. Dirk closes the door and kisses him.

Okay. Yeah. This, now. Talking later. Fuck. Jake wraps his arms around Dirk and kisses him back. He’d missed this, Dirk is so much more demanding than… than Jake is used to. He takes charge. He pushes Jake against the door, and there’s a certainty and a power to his movements that feels commanding. In a good way. In the best way. And he smells so good, too. Strong, deep. That shitty cologne that he loves, and Jake loves it, too. (shit, Jake will have to wash his clothes fast if Dirk is wearing that today. Pop them right into the wash right after the shower, maybe shower off here after they’re done)

Dirk pulls away too soon, Jake wants more. Pulls him back, even though he can tell Dirk has something to say. He can say it later. He tastes so good, and his lips are so familiar and warm. Going on 20 years, now. Off and on. Both of them took breaks, up to 10 years long, from each other. Tried to get their own careers or lives moving along, or find people they could be around without driving each other up a fucking creek. But they’re kind of like magnets, through all this time. Jake needs to put a rest to it, he really, really does, but he doesn’t want to. Finally, he pulls away and looks at Dirk.

“You’re lookin’ good.”

“And you, too. It’s been too long.”

“Yeah.” Dirk seems pensive. “Yeah, it has. Come here.”

Dirk leads him to the bed, pulls out a bottle of absinthe – Jake’s favorite, and it’s something they used to drink together back in college, back before the psychotropic elements weren’t banned. And they’d get high on it and fuck in the woods behind Jake’s house. The memories hit him as he smells it, and knocks it back. The spices stick to his tongue, sharp and strange and good. He remembers the taste of it in the back of his throat as the dirt and sticks dug into his back, and looking at Dirk’s face and the moon and stars behind him. He makes a contented noise.

“It’s delicious.”

“Forgot to pick you up some last time.” Dirk drinks half of his shot.

“What brings you over here, Dirk?”

He pours another shot for Jake. “A tour thing. My friend was supposed to play Boston tomorrow, but he got E. coli or something, out of commission, needed to call in a favor I owed him.”

“Oh, goodness, how horrible! So you just left to come out here?”

“Yeah.”

“What about D-“ Jake stops himself. Oh, goodness, that shot hit quick. That’s one of their rules, when they do this. Don’t mention each other’s families. “What kind of music? The same as usual?”

It’s a weak recovery, but Dirk buys it well enough. Jake sips on his next drink as he talks.

“Yeah. Mixing some new genres into it. I’ll play it for you later.” He scoots a little closer and Jake can feel the warmth of his leg. “I’m really glad you came by. Shit didn’t end on the best note last time.”

“No, it didn’t.” To put it mildly. Shit, as Dirk so eloquently put it, got pretty heated. Things were said that shouldn’t have been said. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too. That was dumb.”

“Let’s toast to not doing that again,” Jake says, and hopes that it’s not the completely hollow promise that it feels like, like a glass egg, just air and words.

Dirk clinks his glass to Jake’s, and they drink it. And then he takes Jake’s shot glass from his hand, puts it on the bedside table, and pushes Jake over on the bed. Jake gasps and they kiss, the taste of his tongue deadened by the sharp sting of the liquor. He tries to wrap his arms around Dirk, but Dirk takes his wrists and pins them over his head. And instead of giving him any meaningful stimulation, he just grinds down ever so slightly against Jake’s growing bulge.

Jake tries to break free of the hold, and feels the strong muscles in Dirk’s arms tense keep him in place, and feels Dirk smile against his lips. It sets his heart racing. Jake had let his training go by the wayside since they were younger, but Dirk had only taken it more and more seriously as the years went on, and it always shows when they do this. Jake isn’t used to not having the upper hand physically. It’s alarming, and feels almost dangerous, but just safe enough with him that it just makes him want more. But Dirk will give him more when he wants to, and no sooner, and that’s just so unbelievably erotic that it makes Jake want to cream his pants right there.

“Please get on with it.” Jake can already feel that ache between his legs. He needs Dirk inside of him.

“Shit, listen to you. And here I thought you might not come.”

And maybe it’s supposed to be erotic, but it just reminds Jake why he almost didn’t come, why he shouldn’t have come.

“Don’t start with that,” he says, a little sharper than he means to. “Just do it.”

“Fuck, you know how to get a guy hard.” Dirk gets up off of Jake and unbuckles his belt. He pulls down his pants – no underwear – and Jake stares at his cock. He’s hard, of course. Jake wants to take it in his mouth.

“Like what you see?”

Jake rolls his eyes. “No, Dirk, it’s just as awful as last time.” He’s practically salivating. He wants Dirk to fuck his face. That was. Fun. “Mind if I…”

Dirk raises his eyebrows. Which is enough. Jake leans over and licks at him. Holds him steady at the base and takes him in. Fuck. Fuck, he loves this.

“God, you’re such a fucking slut,” Dirk says, and his voice is a little tighter than before, and it makes Jake throb with want. With his free hand, he starts to unbuckle is own pants. “Cocksucker slut.”

Fuck. It’s so fucked up, isn’t it? Jake isn’t gay. Aside from Dirk, he leans almost exclusively towards women. And yet he absolutely loves this. Sucking it, getting fucked, getting held in place and used by a man who’s strong enough to keep him where he wants him and take what he wants from his body.

He takes Dirk down deep and keeps the pressure soft and drinks in his moans. Fuck, he could do this for hours. Has done this for hours. Back when they were together as more than just illicit, ill-advised escapades, when they were younger, and it was all new and exhilarating, Jake had made it a contest with himself to see how long he could go before his jaw started to ache. But today, he doesn’t have the time or the stamina for something like that. But he can still make it good for Dirk, before Dirk makes it so, so good for him.

He should probably have used a condom for this. He shouldn’t just take Dirk at his word. And he’d said he’d been fucking around with other guys, he shouldn’t just assume everything was fine down there. Fuck. He’d get tested after this.

He doesn’t stop until Dirk pulls him off. He turns him around and pulls his slacks down and Jake pants with anticipation. He uses lube, gets it in deep with his long, thin fingers before Jake feels the fat tip of his cock push inside of him. And that’s all he can think about as Dirk pushes in, inch after inch. He murmurs praises, makes sure Dirk knows exactly how good it feels to be filled up by him. And the rest is blinding, good, sweaty and overwhelming and messy. Dirk flips him over a few times, moves Jake’s body how he wants it so he can get deeper, thrust into him harder. He tells him he’s perfect when he starts jerking off, tells him not to hold back, tells him he’ll make Jake come so many times he can’t remember his own name. And Jake comes, and Dirk buries himself deep in him and starts to bite at his shoulder – which is actually bad, no, don’t do that – but he stops before he leaves any marks.

They lay in bed for a few hours, taking turns between talking and making love until Jake sees the light of dawn creeping in through the windows.

“I should go.”

“Come back tomorrow night.”

“I… I might. I’ll see what I can do.”

Dirk’s expression gets hard, visibly disgusted. “What, gotta keep the bitch well fed on bullshit?”

Jake’s jaw drops. It honestly feels like a swift blow. Here they were, getting on fabulously, and now this?

“Where the _fuck_ did that come from? Do _not_ call her that, Dirk. We’ve talked about this.”

“Oh, shit, sorry. The _wife_.”

Jake takes a deep breath. Okay, they’re doing this now. Dirk wants to do this, now.

“Can we, just once, leave each other on a good note?”

“Sorry, dude, it’s just hard to watch you flush your life down the fucking drain because you can’t admit you’re gay.”

“I’m not gay! How many fucking times do I have to tell you that?”

“Seem kinda gay to me. Seriously, the trophy beard wife thing isn’t a good look for you.”

“She’s not a beard. I very much love her, Dirk, and I don’t appreciate this one bit.”

“Sure.”

“Dirk, I swear to god.”

“No, you’re right. I’m sorry.” There’s nothing in his tone that says that he’s actually sorry, but he’s decided to drop it. And Jake should drop it, too. Leave it there. Leave it. _Jake, come on. Leave it._

But he wants to hurt Dirk. Fuck him for starting shit for absolutely no reason, fuck him for not believing what he says, fuck him for thinking he knows Jake better than he knows himself. It drives Jake absolutely fucking batshit when Dirk does this, it always has, how he decides what reality is and refuses to listen to anything else. No, fuck him.

“How’s Dave doing?”

Dirk grimaces.

“I’m sure you hired a babysitter for him when you came up here, right? I just wanted to check.”

“Fuck off."

"You did get a sitter, right?"

"Kid can take care of himself just fine.”

“How old is he again? 11?”

“Really? We’re doing this now?”

“It’s just that sometimes I wonder if you should be the one taking care of him, when you say things like that.”

Oh, that pisses him off. Because he didn’t ask for Dave, did he? Boo-hoo. Poor party boy has a cramped lifestyle now that he has a kid to take care of. Poor little baby. It grinds Jake’s gears like nothing else. Because yes, it’s a fucking sacrifice. It’s _years, decades_ of sacrifice, and no, you don’t get a fucking choice after you decide to keep the kid. You either give the kid up, or you keep them, and deal with it. Did Dirk think that Jake had wanted children? Did he think he was the only parent out there who wasn’t ready for a child? No.  But you fucking adapt. Of course you want to fucking just leave for two weeks and have your life back, but you can’t just _do_ that. And Dirk doesn’t understand that, and it's absolutely infuriating.

Jake needs to remember that next time. It’s so easy to get caught up in all the good things - the conversation and the good drink and music and the sex - but Dirk is an immature man-child and a ghost of who he used to be.

_And you’re exactly the same as him, aren’t you?_

"It's none of your fucking business, Jake."

“I just mention it because-“

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Well, see, you’re just oh so offended by my ‘beard wife,’” he says, putting air quotes around the term, “and I’m more than a little offended by the rampant neglect of your child. If we’re going to air our grievances like this, I mean.”

Dirk takes a deep breath.

“Okay, get out.”

“I was leaving anyways.”

“Cool. Get the fuck on with it.” He takes a few more deep breaths. He’s pissed. Good. Regret starts to sting in Jake’s chest, but it doesn’t outweigh the satisfaction of getting him back. He started it. Jake ended it.

( _Christ, man, how old are you? Why are you doing this?)_

Jake collects his things and leaves. They don’t say another word to each other.

*

As Jake drives back, he thinks, maybe this time it’s really over. It wasn’t the worst fallout they’d had, but it was a bit faster than usual – he really did think he’d come back around the night after, he wasn’t expecting it to blow up so fucking fast – but maybe they’d all built up, and Dirk was really done this time. Maybe this was it. Maybe it would stick.

He knows it won’t.

He pulls over for gas on the way home. He checks his phone. Two messages from his wife, sending warm wishes and letting him know that she’s about to fall asleep for the night. One from Dirk.

_From: 281-555-0201_

_I’m sorry. That was really fucking stupid of me._

He closes that conversation out and responds to his wife. If he feels anything tugging in his chest for Dirk, he ignores it.

A few days, weeks, or months down the line, he’ll get drunk, or Dirk will get high, and text each other again. Start talking again. Dirk will come by to see Jake, or Jake will fly down on a “business trip” and spend a few days in Houston. Dirk will show him around the city during the day, sleep in his hotel at night. And then they’ll fight about something stupid, and everything else will come boiling up to the surface. Every time, the fuse will get shorter. And this tenuous little dance will keep on going, spinning around faster and faster and faster and faster, until it blows up in his face.

No, no more of that, he decides. This time was the last time, Jake decides firmly. He’ll go in, wash Dirk’s sweat and cologne off his skin and finger the lube out of his ass, he’ll eventually stop burning with shame every time his wife smiles at him, and he’ll never go back to Dirk.

Never again. This time, for real. Jake smiles. The resolution feels good.

**Author's Note:**

> i wasnt sure how to put it in the fic but jake doesn't know the full extent of how dirk treats dave, just thinks that he really ought to hire a babysitter when he goes out on gigs. he doesn't know how close to the money he really is saying he's neglecting him, hes just trying to get a rise and cause some pain
> 
> oh also postgame for this fic: jenna literally never finds out, she dies before the shit blows up, jake lives the rest of his life with knowing that he lied to her forever and always wondering how she would have reacted, and wondering if he really made the right choice in keeping it a secret


End file.
